


But I Do Not Look Up Anymore (And I Don't Know Why)

by thecoloursinthegravel



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Eighteen Years Old, Fourteen Years Old, M/M, Sixteen Years Old, Twenty One Years Old, Twenty Seven Years Old, Twenty Three Years Old, ages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoloursinthegravel/pseuds/thecoloursinthegravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s fourteen years old and he thinks he must have done something wrong because this boy stares at him and he doesn’t stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But I Do Not Look Up Anymore (And I Don't Know Why)

He’s fourteen years old and he thinks he must have done something wrong because this boy stares at him and he doesn’t stop. He thinks he must have something on his face or his hair looks funny or he did something stupid without realising because this boy just keeps staring, like Tyler’s supposed to know what that means. Tyler doesn’t know what that means.

He’s sixteen years old and he thinks the only thing he knows is anger because they did it again, they fucking did it again. Then he goes to punch something, anything, before he catches his eye. And he doesn’t look away. He just keeps staring. Tyler doesn’t know why he’s here, he shouldn’t be here right now. And why is he looking at him, why can’t he just leave him alone like he was supposed to? He just keeps staring at him. Tyler doesn’t know what that means.

He’s eighteen and he’s stopped asking why the boy with the pale skin and soft smile keeps staring at him. Sometimes it makes him angry, sometimes it makes him want to scream and tell him to fuck off because what does he want? Is he mocking him? Is it all a big joke, has he got something on his fucking shirt? Does he have food in his teeth? Did he just fuck up so spectacularly without even realising and gosh it’s all just so darn funny who could possibly look away? Then sometimes Tyler stops thinking about it and just stares back. Because he can. Because he’s too tired to look away; too intrigued and too worn out to fight his curiosity. And sometimes, just sometimes, Tyler catches the boy staring and he smiles. A hesitant, barely there smile that feels like, if asked, he could pretend it never happened. And the boy’s face just lights up. Tyler doesn’t really know what that means. But he sort of hopes he does.

He’s twenty one and he’s forgotten about the boy that used to stare. He’s forgotten about being angry, and he’s forgotten about being curious. He can’t remember how it feels to smile and god, if that isn’t just the saddest thing. He thinks he should probably cry but remembers that he’s forgotten how to. He thinks about being angry and he misses it. Because, boy, would he take that fist clenching, heart racing, blood boiling anger any day over this. Now he just feels numb. Tyler has come to know what that means.

He’s twenty three and everything is too bright and his head hurts and there’s this incessant _beeping_. His vision slowly adjusts and he can see him. The boy with the eyes that burnt holes in his head and made his chest clench just the tiniest bit. But for once, he isn’t staring. And Tyler feels like something is wrong, so wrong because why won’t the boy look up? He was always looking up, at Tyler, keeping his eyes so firmly on him that it felt like he was keeping Tyler from drifting away. That’s what he did; that’s what he used to do.

Until he didn’t anymore.

Come on boy, look up, _look up_. But he doesn’t and Tyler doesn’t understand why. He tries to speak; tries to, for once, let the words come out. They don’t. Then his vision starts to go fuzzy and his head hurts and there’s this incessant _beeping_. Everything starts to go black. And Tyler has to stop himself from thinking about what that means. Tyler doesn’t think he wants to know.

He’s twenty seven and he feels fine. And every day someone will ask but there’s no need to worry because he’s fine. _“I’m fine”_ he’d say with the smallest of smiles; just enough to be convincing. And they’d go on with their day and they needn’t worry anymore because they’ve done their bit, they’ve asked the question and they know with absolute certainty that he’s just _fine_. And Tyler looks in the mirror every morning and every night and he practices. He practices his smile and he practices his words so they’ll come out just fine. Just as they should. He’s fine. Honest.

Then one day he’s in a bathroom, somewhere public, somewhere sort of dirty and Tyler doesn’t like it much but it’s necessary. He needed a mirror, you see, because a lady asked him how he was and he could feel himself forgetting. And that’s no good, no good at all- he clearly needs to practice some more. His hands are gripping the side of the sink and his smile looks more like a grimace as he grinds his teeth together because he’s been doing this for half an hour and he’s just so frustrated. Every time he says it the words sound wrong and no matter how hard he tries, the smile he plasters on never reaches his eyes. But now he feels anger and this is good, good and he doesn’t stop it this time, he just lifts his hand, pulled tightly into a fist and-

Those eyes.

God, how he’d missed those eyes. Those deep, deep, dark ones staring intently at him in the mirror. He slowly lowers his fist and finally remembers he needs to breathe.

“Hey. How are you?”

Tyler doesn’t register it for a minute because that boy with those eyes is here and he doesn’t know how to respond. So he does what he knows he needs to and he begins to turn up the corners of his lips into a smile, “I’m f-” But he can’t go on and his face drops and his eyes start to water before he can even finish the fucking word. He slumps his head forward and huffs out a breath. A harsh sigh that sounds exasperated, embarrassed, hopeless because Tyler, you know what you need to say, but Tyler, oh he’s just so _tired_.

And the boy, the boy with the pale skin and the soft smile, the boy that had those eyes that Tyler missed so, so much, just stares at him and says, “It’s okay. I’m fine too.”

And _god_ , Tyler knows what that means.

**Author's Note:**

> -
> 
>  
> 
> A kitchen sink, my friend.
> 
>    
> Title: Slowtown by Twenty One Pilots
> 
> Forgot to say! Let me know what "age" you liked the best, I'd love to know!


End file.
